He launched his coffee ground
bitter scowl at me as I walked
home from school every day,
careful not to step on his property.

In the end he chased people with a chainsaw,
someone hit him with a shovel,
held him down until the police arrived.

After six months of silence and weeds,
painters showed up and a moving van
arrived from somewhere far away

Michael Philips

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rebirth-4/